


Girl on Film

by Storybook_Wolf



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Fantasizing, Jancy Fic Week, Masturbation, PWP (porn with a dusting of PTSD), Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:52:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storybook_Wolf/pseuds/Storybook_Wolf
Summary: Nancy knew that nice girls weren’t supposed to touch themselves like this. Certainly not while thinking about a boy who wasn’t their boyfriend. And definitely not while imagining said boy watching them through the window.Some solo smut, set about a month after the end of s1. Providing a bit of sex positivity for a girl in a culture that tells her she should be ashamed!For Day 5 of the Summer of Jancy Fanfic Week: NSFW.





	Girl on Film

Nancy knew that nice girls weren’t supposed to touch themselves like this. Certainly not while thinking about a boy who wasn’t their boyfriend. And _definitely_ not while imagining said boy watching them through the window. But Nancy Wheeler wasn’t a nice girl any more.

Maybe she’d never been a nice girl. Instead, she was a girl her liked to touch herself, and wanted to be touched by boys. She’d wanted to know what sex felt like so much that she’d sent her best friend away into the night just days after Will had disappeared in the darkness.

She pushed the thoughts of Barb away. They were always there now, interrupting her in class or at dinner, or even in the most personal moments like this.

Instead, she focused on the feeling of her fingers on her clit, and the way it pulsed and swelled as she swirled gentle circles around it. As her other hand slid up to her left breast, teasing her hardening nipple, she imagined Jonathan there at the window, with the camera she’d given him last month trained on her. Was he capturing the arch of her back against the mattress as she mewled helplessly? Was the moonlight glinting off the pale skin of her belly as she lay there splayed out on the bed? How did he feel, watching her here like this, consumed by lust? Did he know it was him she was thinking about?

And what about when he developed the photos? She pictured him at home, in his own bed, photos of her scattered around him as he stroked his cock, gently at first, then building up intensity as he looked at the images of her, naked and beautiful and so turned on in the moonlight. As he got closer to climax, he called out her name. ‘ _Nancy_ ,’ she moaned breathily, vaguely aware of the ridiculousness of saying her own name as she came, but too high on her own pleasure to care.

God, that felt so good, but she didn’t want to stop yet. She rolled over, keeping her right hand between her legs and angling her pussy over a throw cushion for extra friction. As she bucked and writhed against it, her fantasy shifted, and instead of each of them alone and lusting after the other, she pictured Jonathan there in her bed with her, like he’d been that night – except this time she was riding him, his cock hitting her in all the right places and making her tremble. She imagined one of his hands – those large, strong hands that had held her so tightly as he pulled her out of the Upside Down – gripping her ass, and the other gently cupping one breast, its thumb lightly flicking her nipple with delicious strokes. She pictured herself with one hand braced against his broad chest, and the other tangled in her own hair, holding it away from her face so she could look down at him.

In her fantasy, they locked gazes, his soft brown eyes pleading with her, the want and need and pleasure all evident on his face. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘let go,’ and he did and so did she, feeling the walls of her vagina flutter around his hot, throbbing cock as he filled her with his cum and o _hgodohgodohgodohgodohgodyesgodohyesyesyesohgodohgodyes._

She collapsed forward, burying her face into a pillow and hoping it muffled the keening moans that were escaping her body. She felt clean and wrung out and a little bit high, and most of all exhausted. As she sank into a deep, dreamless sleep, Nancy didn’t care about being a nice girl. This was who she was, and how could something that felt so good and right be bad?

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so bad at writing smut! I figured making it one-sided might be easier (at the very least, the sex doesn’t have to be realistic if it’s all in Nancy’s imagination).  
> Apologies for the Barb-related angst at the beginning, but given that this is set so close to the end of s1, Barb is still very much on Nancy’s mind. I also think that the fact her friend disappeared while she was getting laid contributed to Nancy’s guilt in a big way – and is going to impact her feelings around sex and desire for a long time.


End file.
